This is the twenty third edition of The Voice In Your Head Is Mine. The date is November 10th, 2020. If you're receiving this email and have no idea what's going on, well, fuck. I guess I blew it. Or maybe you blew it. Either way, you're here and this is Zac Thompson's weekly newsletter.
It’s the early morning on Tuesday. The last two weeks have been a whirlwind for the entire planet and I have to admit that I was losing hope mid last week but for now it seems the dust has settled. Maybe, just maybe, we can get back to living in a semi-calm world where we can focus on the giant inequalities staring down most people in North America. But I digress, you’re not here for more of this bullshit.
Apart from watching the shitshow play out, I’ve been reading a lot and watching a lot of movies (like usual). It reminds me that, above all else, good storytelling is a comfort in this insane world.
Writing Craft:
Read more non-fiction
So, this one will be a short piece of craft talk and it’s definitely a personal taste thing but I think most writing is missing a comprehensive piece of non-fiction research weaved into its plot/characters/world.
Which is to say, there’s this old maxim that you should “write what you know” and many people seem to understand that as something akin to writing something that personally happened to you. But I think that’s a misunderstanding. It’s imperative to push yourself outside your comfort zone when writing. You have to reach further than your grasp in order to learn anything about your craft. So, I think a good rule of thumb is to pick something in the non-fiction space that you’ll become an expert in as you work on your story. This doesn’t have to be universally true for all stories but I find it helps especially in the high-concept world of comic books.
There’s always a concern that readers won’t have a firm grasp on the world beneath their feet when reading something high concept (or even something that heavily skews into genre territory) - weaving non-fiction research into your writing is an easy way to teach readers about something cool while also telling a good story that’s firmly grounded in some version of reality - be it the history of a place or the science behind a concept.
For example, when looking at the history of an area you can do a deep dive into the social and political machinations of a particular setting and either transpose some of those elements into your fiction or actual set your story within that world you’re reading about.
But Zac, I’m doing a high concept western on the moon! Good, now look at the fraught history of frontier settlements and think of inventive ways to make that work within the context of your story.
For example, my new book I BREATHED A BODY exists within the heavy intersection of supernatural horror and real world mushroom science. It’s a weird combo that may not seem like it fits together perfectly but therein lies the magic. Mushrooms are these strange and mysterious objects within nature, some are neither living nor dead, they exist on a massive network where each node is symbiotically connected to others on the mycelium network. It creates a very interesting latticework backdrop to the plot within IBAB but also weaves into the characters, structure, and plot of the book. I’ve learnt all kinds of new things while working on this story and it’s pushed me to try new things and take on new types of challenges.
And as an added bonus, those who read the book will end up learning some cool shit about mushrooms. It’s win, win.
Anyway, I promise your writing will get better when you start to incorporate real world research and non-fiction into your story. It seems simple but looking around, I think its a key element that many stories are missing today.
The Seventh Mansion
I recently finished Maryse Meijer’s excellent debut novel The Seventh Mansion. It’s a weird fiction horror story about the intersection of faith, radical climate politics, and what it means to be human in a rapidly diminishing earthly plane. It’s written as a stream of consciousness without clear denotations for dialogue or action. It’s without a single chapter break and is difficult to immerse yourself in at first.
But you quickly realize there isn’t a single wasted word in this novel. Quite literally, everything is communicated in terse matter of fact terms. Take the opening passage of the novel “Back to school. Glossy red brick, high ceiling. Fresh beige paint on the doors. Someone flicking a cigarette in Xie’s path as he comes up the steps, hood up. The cigarette hits his knee. Little spray of ash. Fucking psycho.”
The novel follows Xie, a teenage boy who sees climate change as a giant existential threat to the entire human race. He joins a radical climate activist group that may or not being eco-terrorists while also believing himself to be communing with a divine saint he finds in the woods.
I absolutely adore this book. It feels like a urgent message about the current state of the world. Said through a mouthful of ash and choking on dust while skirting beyond the earthly plane and into a divine communication from somewhere beyond life. It’s haunting, cuts to the core, and is one of my favorite reads of the year.
How To With John Wilson
I’ve recently become obsessed with How To With John Wilson. It’s a strange look into our “always on” culture. Host John Wilson carries a camera around New York City and literally films strangers while constructing a weird and often hilarious narrative around their lives. The footage in the show is strange and voyeuristic but never devolves into mean-spirited. In fact, it’s often sweet and good-hearted while also being one of the funniest shows I’ve ever seen. It’s a weird lovechild of All Gas No Brakes and Nathan For You.
The first three episodes are on HBO right now. It has my highest possible recommendation.
Tiny Scabs
Jeff VanderMeer’s wonderful short story The World is Full of Monsters is free on Tor right now. It’s utterly fantastic and experimental. I can’t recommend it enough.
Recently, I’ve found myself thinking a lot about this essay from Zadie Smith: Fascinated to Presume: In Defense of Fiction. It’s a really great look at our inability to distinguish an author from their characters and projecting intent onto a story where there may not be any. It’s also an incredibly helpful tool for writers to use when thinking about their own stories.
This week’s playlist, right here:
Peace
Nothing more from me this week.
Lead with empathy, remember that you don’t owe anyone your time. Reconciliation begins with the abuser reaching out and recognizing they’ve done something wrong. Don’t fall into the traps of trying to passively forget the wounds you’ve accumulated over the last few years. Stay energized but give yourself space to live.
Be good to one another.
Z